


The End of the F***ing World

by Aleqsxia



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Aged-Down Character(s), Angst, Attempt at Humor, Bisexual Male Character, Boys Kissing, Coming of Age, M/M, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Teen Romance, Teenagers, Tragedy, others are mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-04 04:44:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14012445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleqsxia/pseuds/Aleqsxia
Summary: Chan expects any of the popular kids to approach him with the reason of taunting him— just to downright humiliate him because of his sexuality. But Lee Minho— the leader and point guard of the school's basketball team, son of one of the town's richest dudes, a pretty boy adored by the hottest teens, the straightest fuck Chan had met, decided to ask him out.If Chan had said no he's damn sure shit wouldn't turn out as what had did.





	1. At Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off. I know I said the Hanahaki but I'm having a bit of trouble I need to sort out. It might reach past 30k-40k words (not exaggerating, it's already on 25k and it's just a planned oneshot) if I don't.
> 
> Proceed with extreme caution. This is a daring piece, i'm warning you. I wanted this actually to be tagged under Mature but I tagged this under Teen and Up because it's a coming of age story. This is extremely based on the British show of the same name.
> 
> I decided to have a Netflix marathon and 'The End of the F***ing World' is on my list. I decided to watch it and not gonna lie, I cried. But hey, I was laughing a lot, especially how Alyssa reminded me of Lee 'Know' Minho (probs the sass and 4d attitude. Love-hate her though) and the story of it caught me emotionally. It's a nice coming of age story that did remind me of the story of Bonnie and Clyde (on the ending on how Alyssa wanted to stay with him) with a retro feel. So I guess ta-dah? I created a fic inspired by it.
> 
> The representation of homosexual people are just kind of a guess or tropes I've taken from shows/movies. I'm not one, I actually considers myself Aro-ace, so i'm sorry. Please, I meant no offense so I'm really sorry early on if I did wrong.
> 
> Also, you shouldn't read when you're feeling sleepy, you might fall asleep reading this lol. And if you are up, grab a snack and read on this boring ass story. This is a 3-parter series i'll finish in probably a week then proceed at the other works.
> 
> This has the most random playlist like ever.  
> Songs from 60s to 90s for Chan and more recent songs for Minho.  
> [Laughing on The Outside - cover by Bernadette Carroll (Dinah Shore is the original)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q5kFJ2881ZY)  
> [Take Me to Church - Hozier](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t0imaSCnSuA)  
> [Summer Nights - Olivia Newton-John, John Travolta (from Grease)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hG_XYQZikWc)  
> [Take the Run and Go - Twenty One Pilots - Hozier](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3x-oEmweCsM)  
> [Don't Let Me Down - The Beatles](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NCtzkaL2t_Y)  
> [I Know Places - Taylor Swift](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n5InwCSgUDY)  
> [Sunny Afternoon - The Kinks](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PaKr9gWqwl4)  
> [Only Love Can Hurt Like This - Paloma Faith](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2EHXH0hYkuU)
> 
> or the actual soundtracks from the show.  
> [The End Of The F***ing World Full Soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EE49knDrm9U)
> 
> I guess it would be nice to listen to these as you read?
> 
>  
> 
> _Warning: Language, Death, Implied Sexual Scenes_  
> 

Chris is a normal, athletically built teenager. Handsome and foreign, according to others. He’s 17 and growing. He’s currently attending highschool in his junior year. School is like how a typical teen would call it. A shithole full of shits. He expects any of the popular kids to approach him with the reason of taunting him— just to downright humiliate him because of his sexuality. Chris was not open with it really.

Back when he was younger, he never really liked girly things and never did he looked at another boy the same way he looked at girls. But at 16, he realized he can’t fall in love with a girl, no matter how many times they openly flirt at him nor throw themselves at him, asking him to touch them,  _to fuck them_. He was kind of disgusted by the thought so he typically pushes them away and acted coolly with a flirty response and sends his, quote, irresistible smile, and the damsels fell for it every time. But when he does do what they want, it doesn’t feel like he wanted to experience it once again. How their shrill moans would reach his ears, or their lipstick stained lips wrap around him, or how their breast feels against him. It doesn’t feel  _right_. He did try dating the girls he had done it with. But it only lasted for less than a month. Not because of him actually, it’s because they can’t keep their hands to themselves. He didn’t dwell on it

He did realize he liked boys during his Junior time. He feels hot while watching the other guys in his soccer team change in the locker, he thought it was because it was after practice but that doesn’t explain the churning feeling at the pit of his stomach, how he feels squeamish under the gaze of their ‘campus faggot’, Felix, and not in a bad way, oh god no. It is as if there are butterflies in your stomach, yes. Sometimes, he finds himself expecting the gaze of the freckled teen to stay at him. And the many times the caught these feelings he dared tell his so-called bestfriend. The next day, it spread like wildfire. He had dealt the blow of the rumors with his team, with his circle of friends, with his status as a respectable person to a degenerate trash— as most calls him.

He came from being the team captain of their team to still the team captain of the team— bless his coach on being an atheist and ‘shit religion says won’t affect his perfect team’ and his vice-captain, Kim Woojin, for being an open minded and scary person when stern. His other teammates are douches outside the team but in the field, get affected and Woojin will whoop your ass if you dun goofed. It’s going smoothly but every accidental bump, hit, or trip seemed to be getting more and more often.

Outside the field, Chris’ daily life, is hellish than ever. Woojin has no power outside. He is basically defenceless. It’s not like he can’t fight, his athletic body is just not for show nor soccer only, he had done a couple of martial arts, but he prefers to stay out of trouble. Even though it is basically trailing him in the ass for the whole day. The girls, of course with their typical selves, spread nasty rumors about him, the other guys got more physical, well the bigger ones. Bumping onto him, blocking his pathway, sometimes assaulting him even, because ‘a fag touched his girl’. He remembers spitting on one’s face with blood and saliva mixed together before responding, “Probably ‘cause you’re a shitty fuck.”

The gash that teen made is still present at his eyebrow. His mum scolded him that time, letting a prick pick on him because he’s different. He was open to her however. They’re not really much of a Catholic. Yes, they’ll visit church at Sunday or pray before a meal, but that’s about it. She doesn’t care that her son is ‘an abomination’ or ‘the devil incarnated as man acting his sins’. Even if it’s the 21st century, and the world is more accepting than previous centuries (based on the books and articles he’d read regarding homosexuality), people are still huge dicks. Just because he like men doesn’t mean he likes dicks.

But he endured everything for about a year or two now. His name is still famous, but now for a different reason. He still doesn’t give a single fuck as always. But the shit happening today is the most cruel punishment, test— whatever the people call those, to someone as gay as Christopher Bang.

Standing before him with his chestnut brown hair swaying in the wind, his eyes shining with undeniable intriguing glint, and his pretty pink lips curved into the sweetest smile Chan could ever get from him. The hottest guy, the most wanted bachelor and Chan’s undeniable apple of the eye decided to play him.

“Hey, you’re Bang Chan right? You’re gay right? Date me.”

* * *

 

Minho never really wanted this. His life basically. He was diagnosed at the age of 5 with apathy, triggered by the gory death of his uncle he had witnessed after he accidentally bumps him off the balcony. He’s rich. He lives in a perfect house, in a perfect neighborhood with a perfect family of four. Until he’s the only child of his father and never Tony’s. Tony is a western lady that his dad has met back on his business trip at the U.S. She’s a bitch, like really bitchy, like a brattynella bitch kid stuck in a grown woman’s hot body. She wants everything she wants be done and she’s a huge  _Madame_.

By the magic of some-sorts, ‘love’ (Minho still thinks it’s lust) became thick in the air and they decided to fuck and have kids. Now Minho’s stuck with two step siblings. But hey, they’re pretty sweet, just not crying or making a fuss.

His mom with his sister had left the town for years already; it has been six— no, eight years since he last saw them. His mom took his 9 years-older than him sister with her, well it’s more of his sister ran away (she’s on her rebellious phase, Dad said) to find their mother after a few months and they send letters to him every now and then. Their family is actually far from perfect as he said earlier. His dad would always be away on a business trip and it would leave mom to care for them. Even though they have nannies, it’s hard for his mom to not look after them, especially her son who doesn’t show emotions. What if he’s hurt? He doesn’t really care about his well being.

She was an artist, from what Minho can remember, and he knows artists liked to feel free. They don’t want anchors weighing them down, they want to explore. They prefer lying down on a grassy plane to look up and see the blue, the black or the grey and feel themselves melt into it and just understand what’s around them. He knows that since that is what he likes doing after letting the music twirl him with his peak of emotion. Sometimes you’ll notice which are alike and which are different.

Same is boring. Minho can see that. You lived your married life with the same agenda for 16 years, it would get boring wouldn’t it. Hell, Minho’s nearly 17 years of living under the title of a rich man’s son or a sign basically hanging on him saying ‘precious, don’t break’ is making him feel annoyed. Everybody treats you like royalty, or something rare, or a perfect diamond among the uncut gems. Well he feels like a turkey getting fatten up to be butchered. It’s suffocating really. Everybody around him— his friends, teammates, teachers, schoolmates, they all treat him like that. And he never really liked the similarity people posses. He wants something new, different. But he can’t be different, he has to be normal to find this different. That is why he started acting as if he’s fine with it, as if he cares about it. He tried showing the facial expressions emotions would be portrayed as, even though he doesn’t harbor those truly. One of these days he’ll go crazy if he can’t find this ‘different’.

And at the corner of his eyes, as he held a conversation with his ‘friends’, he sees a hunched figure, busily scribbling on a notebook with headphones on. His curly, silver hair bouncing as he bopped his head to whatever music going through the headpiece. The figure leans back and Minho swears his breath was taken. The man stretched his arms above his head and his tee pulled up just to show a tiny fraction of a well built stomach (and a peek of red underwear). But what really caught him is his face. The guy bears a foreign face, literally and figuratively for Minho. He doesn’t look to have Korean attributes except for the monolid and light skin, but everything else seems foreign. A half maybe? Minho stops and stares at the new figure he’s seen. He’s been attending this school’s middle school and highschool, everyone knows him and vice versa and he’s never seen that man. It seems that his companions noticed his sudden halt.

“Minho-yah, what is it?” then he hears a snort, “Oh, you’re looking at  _him_.”

Minho noticed the slight anger in the other’s voice. He looked at the one beside him to see a girl, what’s her name again? Bomi? Buhee? Well it’s something B. But B is staring at the man in their conversation.

“Why? What’s with the tone?” he asked, genuinely curious.

B looks at him, her eyes soften, “Oh, you haven’t heard of him? He’s Christopher Bang, or Bang Chan in his Korean alias. He transferred here at highschool and as a sophomore, he was already the team captain for our soccer team— ” so that’s why Minho never saw him, the field and the court are basically opposite ends of the campus, “—seniors like Kibum or Mike at that time were furious. Not only that but he’s handsome, packed and you are special if he lets you get your way with him. Sadly though, he’s interested in men.”

Minho looked at the girl with no expression, the girl held a dreamy stare towards Bang Chan, clearly even if the guy is gay, he is still on the list of girls. Minho looked back Chan. Clearly he’s someone different, in terms physically and sexually. Maybe even socially and mentally. Who knows. Minho held that curiosity and quickly strided towards Chan’s direction.

He’s not saying he’s the answer, the cure to his boredom. It’s not that Chan, being gay, is something he can play with. Oh god no. He’s apathetic but not a cruel being. He wants to experience a different kind of experience. He wants something new like he said earlier. Maybe he could try it at the same time. He could finally experience love and being homosexual at the same time. Maybe he could even go on a little adventure with this relationship. There are a lot of possibilities but he first needs Chris, or Chan, to be his boyfriend.

He stops in front of the silver-haired teen, his shadow casted on Chan’s writing, making the other look up at him. Chan squinted from the blinding light behind Minho but when he realized who was standing before him, he lowered his earphones and gave a nervous smile.

Minho smiles back, trying to give the sweetest smile he can do before speaking, “Hey, you’re Bang Chan right? You’re gay right? Date me.”

Chan looked at him with a gobsmacked expression, okay that was hilarious on Minho’s view. 

* * *

 

The gods clearly hated him, how can they make Minho, of all people, ask him out. He’s the straightest lad Chan knew of. He had the most girlfriends probably ever recorded in their campus’ list. The most wanted guy by everyone, either as a friend or significant other. What did Chan do to receive this fate? Why didn’t he say no anyway? He could’ve said no!

He remembers Minho asking him out with a grin, his eyes curved onto small crescents, and his brown locks being stubborn to stay slicked back and kept on framing his face. He looked hot really. And Chan’s damn sure his jaw touched the ground looking at him.

“So? What do you say Chan-shii?”

Chan was pulled back to reality at that, he blinks before speaking, “W— what?”

Minho giggles.  _Giggles_. Like how a love interest would in an anime whenever the main character says something funny. It was cute and a bit high pitched and is just making Chan cry in the inside. He’s whipped really.

“You’re hilarious. Let me repeat it then. Would you, Christopher Bang, take me, Lee Minho, on a date?”

Chan just stared dumbfounded at the other. Noting how the sun crowned Minho’s silhouette, not too thin, not too bulky, more so lean. His hair turning into golden locks when the sunlight hits it. Or how the determination in his eyes shone brighter. Chan gulps. How can he pass this opportunity? This might be the closest he could ever get to Minho.

“S— sure.” he tried sending his dimpled, genuine smile

Minho’s grin widened, his cheeks flushed and Chan melts. Imagine a cute pikachu smiling with its eyes closed. That is how cute he looked like.

“Well then, see you later, boyfriend.” with that the other turned on his heel. Leaving Chan to watch him retreat.

Now that Chan laid on his bed staring up the ceiling, he can further analyze the situation he’d gotten himself into. He’s a gay man now dating the most wanted guy in their campus, isn’t that basically asking a person to hate you more? He lifts his hand onto his face, groaning as he massaged his temples. Why did he had to be selfish. Why did it have to be him anyway. Not Felix (Chan can’t dwell on the fact that Felix has to suffer, the kid’s pretty weak. It’s better if it’s him really). What’s with him that Lee Minho chose him?

Suddenly there was a knock on his balcony door. Chan sprung up, scared out of his wits. He grabbed the closest thing to him, his thick Chemistry book, ready to throw at whatever or whoever’s at the door.

“I didn’t know you let your lovers freeze to death Chris.” came a voice from the other side.

Chan sighs. He places his book down before walking to the door and opening it to see Minho in a pout, hugging himself from the cold.

“Sorry, sorry. Here come in.” Chan steps aside to let the other come inside. Minho sends him a smile and quickly excuses himself before coming in. He stands at the middle of Chan’s bedroom, examining his surroundings as Chan closes the door.

“By the way, how did you know my house? And I could report you because you going through my balcony is property break in.”

“Oh I didn’t.” Minho walks to his bed to sit down and face him, ignoring the latter sentence Chan said, “I actually had to ask B. Many of the girls know where you live.”

Of course, he had girlfriends before. B might be Baejin, the cheerleading captain for the basketball team. It was through her that he’d seen Minho before. He shook his head as he makes his way to his door.

“Is that so… uh… anyway we should go down stairs. Do you want something to eat?”

“You.”

Chan stops at his tracks, his hand hovering over his door handle, “Excuse me?”

“I said,” he hears shuffling coming from behind him and footsteps that matched Chan’s heartbeat. Arms wrapped around his waist and the other male whispered with his nose buried on Chan’s shoulder, “You. You are clearly a… snack as the ladies said.”

Chan blushes furiously before grabbing the arms around him and getting it off of him. He turns to look at the slightly smaller male, whose expression is lazy. “Could you please not do that?”

Minho blinks, he tilts his head, “Do what?” he gives Chan a pout, “Isn’t flirting a normal thing lovers do?”

“Yes well,” ‘ _I didn’t expect you to be this risqué,_ ’ “uh, your way is too, um, it’s not appropriate for couples who just got together you see. It appears, um, like you started this relationship rather than with ‘like’ it’s with ‘want’.”

As if a child learning a new thing, Minho’s eyes widened and his mouth forming onto an ‘o’, it was as if at that moment he was an innocent child, revealed with the wonders of the world. Chan wanted to swore that he’d want to protect him with everything, but he’s not that familiar with Minho, only with the things he’d heard and seen.

He’s a son of one of the richest man in town, famous for his face and skills, the sweetest gentleman, has a duality of attitude in the court and in daily life, and that he’s someone you’d want to be with. Chan can’t say he’d felt love towards the teen. Probably admiration or infatuation. Love is a deep feeling Chan still can’t get a grasp of.

“So that’s why it always ends like that.” He hears the other murmur. Chan looks at Minho to see him chewing on his bottom lip, clearly in thought.

“Like what?” he voices to catch the other’s attention. Minho jumps a little before looking at him. He awkwardly scratches his nape and shuffles his foot as he looks elsewhere other than Chan, “Er, well, my… re— relationships... um… they end fast with the girls, uh, dumping me…?”

Chan snickers at how unsure Minho sounded at the end. He eyes the smaller teen. It is as if a different Minho is in front of him. Pose is awkward and unconfident, he kept on playing with the hem of his sleeves, eyes darting back and forth to that and Chan, nibbling his lower lip at the process. It is as if Chan stripped Minho bare from his claim earlier. Should he feel pride swelling on his chest? Chan shook his head. He offers his right hand to Minho who, if you’re watching carefully, slightly flinches back, “Hey, how about we eat and you tell me those escapades you’ve done with girls and I’ll tell you how we should start our relationship, yeah?”

Minho was hesitant but he relaxes and as if a switch was flipped, he’s back to the giddy, confident teen Chan knew. He laces the slim fingers of his left hand with Chan’s raised right and his pretty pink lips pulls into a sweet smile. Chan can hear his heart singing  _something_. 

* * *

 

Chan is a great cook. Not just a great cook but a  _great_ cook. Not that he’s exaggerating but it tasted better than most fine-dine cuisines Minho had tasted (Well, he hates the small portions really). He moans as he takes the last bite of Chan’s pasta. He can hear a chuckle coming from the man beside him. He just ignores him.

“You know, you are a husband material already—” he excuses himself as a burp came from him, “You live alone, you can cook, clean, and well with kids— hep hep don’t even try to deny that. I saw how you treated Mrs. Yang’s kid when she visited earlier. Oh and based on the stories you told me earlier, you are a man that is loyal and responsible to the ladies you’ve dated, well, had done  _that_ first but you get what I’m saying right?”

Both of them had got to know each other as Chan cooked. Minho discovered that Chan lived alone with a family friend, the Yangs, as his wards (they lived just across Chan’s street) and what the other’s hobbies are or favorite things (he’s a sucker for cute things) and his past, from the girls he’d dated to his discovery of his sexuality and their birthday (he’s older than Minho by a year). He told Chan the same things but Minho’s not ready to tell him about his condition.

Chan chuckles beside him. He can see Chan leaning to look up at the starry sky, “Sadly, I’m gay isn’t it.”

“No,” Minho intervenes, “Why, who said I want the girls to enjoy your company.”

Chan looks at him with his scarred brow raised. The moonlight now peeking through the clouds weaved through his silver locks, defined his features and that knowing smirk that made Minho gulp.

What is happening?

Minho crossed his legs in front of him and diverted his stare to his hands on his knees, busily twirling the loose seam of his ripped jeans. He swiped his tongue across his lips, feeling the chapped dryness of it. He hates this feeling that he’s bare for Chan to see. This feeling as if Chan had seen through his mask. This feeling of being not in control.

“Well, I mean, clearly you’re gay and the girls, they’re bitches. They don’t deserve you. You— you’re such a g— great person and, um, trash like them, they don’t have to have you. Like, you— you’re a person too. You have choice and— you can be with anyone you wanted and they have to respect that and—“

Then there was a press on his cheek that silenced him. As fast as it came, it vanished. Minho whips his head at the side to see Chan’s face close. Chan held a dimpled smile, his eyes shining as Minho stared at it. The moon is again hidden by the clouds and the dim orange light of the balcony lighted them, like a small fire behind Chan.

Minho’s chest feels tight, as if his breathe is being taken from him. It’s suffocating. And his heart. Why is it making small jumps as he look at Chan. Chan raised his hand and held Minho’s face, his thumb making the softest circles on Minho’s cheekbones.

“Thank you really.” He can hear Chan say. He’s too focused on Chan’s actually brown eyes.

“For?” he whispers.

“Everything. For choosing me, talking to me, accepting me, and praising me. You’re the first person to actually do all that in our town.” Chan laughs, “Well, except for my mum.”

Minho looks at Chan quizzically as he held the hand on his cheek, “Where is your mom?”

Chan smiles sadly, “Somewhere she’d always wanted to be.”

Minho didn’t dare ask where that is. With the pain in Chan’s eyes, the waver in his voice, and the longing look he had, Minho understood. He might lack the capacity to care about emotions but he is aware on what Chan is feeling. Loneliness.

Minho leans his forehead to Chan’s, their breathe mingling at every breathing they do. He still stares at Chan and Chan stares back. He held the hand on his cheek tighter, conveying his assurance to the other, “I’ll never let you.”

“Let me what?”

“Be alone. I’ll be here I promise.” Chan just smiled at him, the softest and sweetest he’d seen, “I don’t care whatever people in this town say. I—”

Chan once again shut him up with a kiss, this time on his lips. Chan has soft lips. And it smells like strawberries. He’d pressed it with force but Minho doesn’t mind. Chan has his eyes closed, Minho wanted to see those brown eyes but that would be creepy wouldn’t it, so closed his too and leaned in. At that moment Minho can feel Chan’s lips leaving his. ‘ _Oh no he wouldn’t._ ’ Minho chased Chan’s lips. He clutched the front of Chan’s hoodie and pulled him back to him. An unattractive ‘ _oomph_ ’ came from Chan and Minho couldn’t care less about it. He just wanted more. He opened his mouth and licked Chan’s lower lip, asking for entrance, and Chan obliges.

Minho leans up more. He kept on pulling Chan downward to get closer to him. His pulls turn to thugs and Chan has no choice but to follow. Minho can feel Chan’s hand caress his lower back before actually wrapping his arms around Minho’s waist to pull him. Their lips danced together in an open and slow manner. Basking the other’s feeling and warmth until Chan decided to finally pull away again. Minho opens his eyes to see Chan bearing plush red lips and Minho felt proud that he’d done that. He also ended up straddling Chan’s thighs. Both of them eyed each other, studying the other carefully.

Chan held a small smile. And Minho can feel his stomach doing flips. He hates how Chan makes him feel not like  _him_. He makes him feel anticipative, curious, and  _normal_. That he’s there to have and protect Minho. That he would accept the  _broken_ Minho. He can feel Chan rub soothing circles where he now held Minho’s waist, and the younger lets a  _whimper_ pass his lips as he buries his head on Chan’s junction and held the other’s clothes tighter in embarrassment.

“I think we live in the most boring town in the planet.” He says after a few minutes of silence. Chan was twirling his hair as he rests on the older, both of them now lying down.

“Hmm, yeah, kind of.”

Minho turns to look up at the sky, “Everyone is the same. All so uptight with tradition and manners.”

Chan just hums, silence again befell on them.

“You know, this is not how I imagined we’d spend our first day together.” Chan says. Minho looks up at him from his place on Chan’s side.

“What do you mean?”

Chan chuckles and still continued to look at the sky, “Well, I imagine us maybe having dinner together outside, not like this okay, or playing in amusement parks, basically on a date-date—”

“Then let’s have a date-date—”

“Minho, it is past 8—”

“Then let’s go to a club—”

“Underage—”

“Oh come on, you’ve had sex already! Drinking is not wors—”

“Still it’s bad, babe. Not here to be the bad influencer.” Minho closed his mouth at that. He can feel heat on his cheeks. He buries his head at Chan’s shoulder.

“Aw, did Lee Minho got shy after a pet name?” A muffled ‘shut up’ and a poke on Chan’s side is his only response. The older was laughing above him.

“Anyway, won’t your parents worry for you to be out at this time of night?”

“Not really. Dad’s away and Tony’s probably at the mall spending his money.”

“Tony— Ah, your step mom, right…”

Minho props himself up and looks down a Chan, “Can I stay here?”

Chan looks at him, “You trust people easily, Minho.”

He huffs as he lays back down, “It’s not like you would take advantage of me. You would initiate something but you would know when it’s enough and pulls away. Even if I’ve spent 3 hours or more with you, I can tell you’re a good person.”

He hears Chan sigh before latching himself on Minho like a koala, peppering kisses on the crown of Minho’s hair, “What did I do to get you, Minho-yah~”

‘ _Yourself_ ’’

“Ugh, I didn’t mean here, I meant on your bed hyung!”

Minho likes this though. The feeling of being basked in warmth. He feels safe. Like he’s at the edge, seemingly floating into a dream. At seventeen, he might be discovering what love is.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minho here is basically the child of Alyssa and James. Just minus the psychopathy of James and nymphomaniac and always angry attitude of Alyssa.
> 
> Not really good a summaries and writing tbh. Y'all probably hate me for doing this. I just wish none of the boys actually read fanfics cause oh my god, i'll die of embarrassment.
> 
> And if you're re-reading, yes there are changes happening.
> 
> My mind will never let me live without it generating ideas for stories. I got so many ideas but so little time.
> 
> Thank you for reading tho. I know, I really suck at daring pieces.
> 
> The possible future fics are under the pinned Thread of threads so here's a view to it:  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/aleqsmonsoleil)
> 
> Y'all can tell me anything there too.


	2. Strange Things are Happening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was running away really all worth it? For Minho it is. He gets to keep all of his source of happiness close to him. And he never wanted them gone. For they are the only things that make him feel human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late. When I did finish it, I was contemplating if I should continue since there was an issue on twitter about sexualizing Minho or the other legal members namely the Hyung line, even though they are legal yes, but it would be awkward and embarrassing if he sees those and these. I took the hook and let myself be reeled in with this... sinning...?
> 
> And I did make Minho a bit smaller than his real height here and Chan a half-Aussie, sorry bout that. _Reminder, this is heavily based on the British series with the same name._
> 
> ##### ALSO, it is **important** to read the end notes and reminder this is unedited, future changes that won't affect the story much may occur.
> 
> I just read [Troye's interview](https://www.billboard.com/articles/news/pride/8390316/troye-sivan-dating-gay-teenager-attitude-interview) and it helped me with what i'm planning today.
> 
> This time, it's proceed with **EXTREME** caution.
> 
> _Warning: Language, Implied Sexual Scenes, Smoking, Underage Drinking, Referenced Drug Use_

 It has been a month since he and Chan started dating. Since they shared their first kiss with each other under the starlight, since Minho started spending frequent nights under Chan’s loft, since they had secret rendezvous in the school grounds, since Minho begun to feel like a normal teenager _infatuated_ with someone.

Strange things started to happen, really. Minho would feel a fluttering feeling in his stomach whenever Chan caught his gaze, or how comforting the other feels when he takes Minho in his arms, or the lingering warmth he leaves at Minho’s skin, or how his smile basically lit up the whole room they’re in, or how hot Chan looked when he greeted Minho with a newly dyed black hair, or how angry (Jealous, Chan sing songs) he gets when he sees Chan with his friend, Felix, with the latter always clinging to him, or when Chan ignores him for nearly a week because of his project,  not even a text or call asking his day or a simple greeting, and Minho got sulky.

Minho have never experience these _phenomena_ during his past relationships. Maybe cause they’re actually taking it slow and intimate and are actually taking their time to really know each other. Like, he’s not just another person he knows basic information about and just simply spends time with them or someone he just planned to fuck with. Chan treats him like how a teen lover would treat their significant other in the movies, not the horny teen type of lover like in the beginning of rom-coms but the genuine childhood friend or next-door neighbor teen type of lover the protagonist wins at the end. Chan treats him with actual care and Minho both absolutely despises and adores it.

Chan feels like someone he could love. Like, really love. But he’s scared that once he actually discovers Minho’s sickness, he’ll hate him. But that’s not the point, like Chan told him when he asked about “if a friend has a secret her boyfriend could hate her in the future, what should she do?” and he answers, “All that matters is now,” a kiss on his knuckles, “not the future. As long as “your friend” is living, “their” future can wait.”.

He grins under his soft blanket with his mind still hazed in a dream-like state, looking back at their escapades.

After his stay at Chan’s at a Friday evening, the other decided to “properly” take him out on a date the next day. Minho still can’t tell the difference between them eating on a balcony, being just casual with each other and sharing a kiss then a bed after date to Chan’s taking him out of town to an amusement park near the other town, then playing a game of laser tag, eating out and still share a kiss as he said goodbye and dropped Minho at his house (Mansion, Chan corrects) date. Chan says it’s the experience.

He did told Chan one afternoon, lazily lounging on the sofa bed when he brought that up that it’s “the thought of us together is what matters”, earning him a push off of the sofa and a “You’re disgustingly cheesy, get out of my house.” reply. He whines at Chan that time, saying he’s just being true.

As said earlier, Chan has his own mean of transportation. He sheepishly states that he just got a driver licence and awkwardly asks Minho if he wants to have a car date. His Baby (Minho laughed at that) is a tan Cabriolet convertible car that was passed down to him by Mr. Yang. It’s nice. It’s old but it’s nice and he likes it. It’s nostalgic. He is reminded on his mom’s caravan, when she would take him and his sister to an outing.

Its smell reminds Minho of Chan, with all honesty. There’s a cute car scent hanger in a shape of a worm? Dino?— he’ll ask Chan when he remembers, that smells like vanilla, there is also the scent of caffeine (probably because he always have coffee with him) and a hint of something fruity, like he’s in a café or something.

But that isn’t the reason why Minho likes it. Minho would sit at his seat’s backrest and just enjoy the wind blowing on his face and hair when the ceiling is open, the scent of the countryside, or sea that they sometimes pass by to, and the old music Chan likes (like from the Beatles or The Kinks, even that one song from ‘Grease’) flowing through his ears as he and Chan travel.

With Baby, Minho can ask Chan to give him a lift home (secretly of course) from school, sometimes asking Chan little favors on taking him somewhere. It’s fun. Since his father wasn’t really present, nothing is tying him down to be the rich man’s Lee Minho who should be all goody two shoes.

On their highschool though, they have to avoid each other like a plague, as if their first conversation that B and his other companions saw never happened. Well, they didn’t know what they talked about anyway. It’s just Minho’s post reaction they knew. Of course, they didn’t dare question him when he asked Chan’s address.

It was all good. No rumours surfacing that could destroy both Chan and him. At least they can enjoy without being bothered. It’s all new to him. Before, if people heard he’s seeing someone, it’s basically the hot topic in their campus until the break up happens. But this peace and quiet, this secret relationship, and the agendas only the two of them know. He likes it, really.

Especially their moments alone together. When they would lay down on a blanket on Chan’s balcony on silent nights, looking up the sky, or their weekends either dining with Chan’s cooking or outside and just watch movies after, or their music filled car rides out of town going to places, or their intimate moments hidden to the eyes of many, just the sweet secret kisses they nearly got caught doing under the bleachers and nothing more (Chan wants their own first to be when they’re proper adults), or that one Sunday afternoon, when they danced under the orange light of Chan’s bedroom, just playing around, letting the music from the vinyl resound through the gramophone and just goof around.

Just imagine, you, a guy who loves to dance, who basically considers it as your religion, see a guy who had told you they don’t dance, in _any_ way, even if he creates music himself, let the melody lead them and they ended up making your jaw drop. It was at that time when he found Chan properly beautiful.

A ding on his bedside table drew his attention off of his thoughts.

He groans to sit up before reaching out to pick his phone and see who sent him a message. Seeing the name on his screen he smiles.

From Chris-hyung

_8:10 a.m_

 

> Hey sleeping beauty, wake up
> 
> We’re going to eat out today since it’s our one month! (o^▽^o)

_8:17 a.m_

 

> Or should I say, happy monthsary lol

Minho rolled his eyes at his lover’s message. He tapped his fingers on his phones screen, typing out a reply.

To Chris-hyung

_8:17 a.m_

 

> I hate u
> 
> And ur lame terminology
> 
> Still, happy 18th bday <3

“Young master, a letter came for you and your presence is required downstairs immediately.” A voice beside him says. Minho again rolled his eyes as he eyed Chan’s reply.

From Chris-hyung

_8:18 a.m_

 

> Why you always lyin
> 
> See, I know you love me (*¯ ³¯*)♡

“Alfred, please place it down at the table, also, it’s Saturday, and can’t you tell Tony that I’ll skip breakfast? I have plans to eat out with friends this whole day. Plus, Tony doesn’t even want me there.” The last part was a whisper but he’s sure the other heard it but he continues to type his lengthy birthday message.

“Are you expecting to do battle with a typhoon this evening, Master Bruce?” Minho stops his typing and looks at his butler with no expression.

“Did you just reference an Alfred Pennyworth quote? Oh my god I hate you, Al.”

Alfred just looks back at him with a smug expression and a poised stance, “Well, you, young master, are not giving your whole attention to me.”

“I’ve like that since I was a kid—“

“Oh really sire? In those times, you are still listening even if diverted. I didn’t say ‘It’s time for breakfast, sir’, I said ‘Your presence is required downstairs _immediately_.’”

Minho sits straight up. Clearly he knows what’s up with Alfred’s emphasis, and it is not a good thing. Still he decides to ask just to be sure of what his butler is saying, “Since when?”

“Just at dawn earlier, he just bathed before asking your presence, sire.”

“Shit.” He continued cursing as he buried his face on his hands. He lifts his head up after seconds and looks at his phone at his side. He picks it back up before deleting the unsent message and replacing it with a simple, _Gtg, need 2 deal w/ smthng_ before jumping of his bed to run into his lavatory.

“Alfred, _please_ prepare my clothing.”

* * *

 

Roughly, two hours-and-a half had passed since Minho sent him his reply and Chan decided to cook something to eat after, and it has been quarter to 11:30 when Minho barged in, startling Chan on the stove. Minho abruptly clung to Chan, burying his face on the other’s shoulder, arms tense. Chan sighs before he gave the younger a pat on his wrapped forearms, assuring him that Chan’s not angry for him being late. Minho’s hold did not loosen.

They stayed like that for minutes as Chan continued to cook as if he’s a mother koala with a joey clinging behind him. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but it’s tolerable since Chan isn’t really moving from one place to another, just stirring a pot of soup.

“Chris…” came a muffled voice, “Have you ever experienced something like, sometimes everything is suddenly really simple, like, you step out of your body and you see where you are really clearly. You see yourself, and you think, ‘Fuck. This. Shit.’”

The older turns the stove off, placing the lid to the pot where the soup he had cooked rests. He turns around Minho’s hold and faces the younger. Minho stepped back a bit, only to look up at him with tired eyes, brims red. Chan had just notice how it’s sunken, even the dark bags under it, or how pale Minho is getting, but all is covered with a thin layer of makeup Chan nearly didn’t notice.

‘ _Something’s keeping Minho up at night._ ’

Chan sighs once again. Before leaning in and Minho’s eyes closing naturally. He leaves a warm feathery kiss onto Minho’s lids separately as he wraps his arms around the other’s small shoulders. A content sigh and a warm puff of air that tickled Chan’s chin came from Minho. He moves his hand up to cradle Minho’s head, tangling his fingers through his brunette’s hair, kneading the scalp as an act of comfort. The younger rests his head on Chan’s collar as he let’s the older continue with his actions, his arms relaxing but pulling Chan closer to him.

He likes this about Minho. When he bears himself to Chan, when he’s not like a total stranger to Chan, when he actually trusts Chan.

Minho is an easy book to read. He has a nature of acting. Hiding even. Either with or without awareness of his actions. He’s always careful on every movement he does and words he speaks but he is confident about once it has been done. Chan had seen the rapid eye movement, as if he’s assessing what’s around him, even the tense body posture, or his same but different attitude when he sees the younger at school. He was, as if, a doll with strings brought to life but the have no control over themselves. Small smiles, forced laughs, his face never creasing, like the Minho Chan knew before this.

The Minho Chan now knows is different. The real Minho is like a kid that wanted comfort, even love. He likes letting music be his partner whenever he dance, or how his eyes would shine with mirth with his smile lifting his cheeks as he enjoyed the breeze in their car rides, or how he would curl up beside Chan if he stays for the night, face would be relaxed but his hands fisted on Chan’s shirt, or how he was teary eyed when he was accidentally ignored for a week, the moment he was red faced and angry, jealous over Felix clinging to him the afternoon after school, even how loud and unattractive his laugh was according to him, but to Chan, it’s the realest and cutest, especially when he covers half of his face, leaving his eyes to be seen to crinkle. Chan would always tease him by pulling the hand off and continue to make him laugh. He would turn his head away from Chan continuously until he lands on the cushion they’re sitting onto and both of them would be a laughing mess. He seems really free.

To see Minho like this is bothering him, not only as his lover but as someone who Minho trusts.

“Hey,” he takes a step back, off of Minho’s hold. Taking the smaller’s head with both his palms and tilting him to look up at him. The other was teary eyed and lips pressed onto a thin line as he looked at him. Chan can feel his heart wrench, “What’s the matter babe?”

Minho averted his gaze and chewed on his bottom lip, a habit he tends to do when nervous, focused or ashamed. Chan kissed those lips. Just a simple soft peck. To assure Minho he’ll listen. The other looked back at him, his right hand going to Chan’s left on his hair, “C— can we sit down…?”

Chan lead Minho, hand in hand, to his sofa-bed. As they sat down, the younger laid his head on Chan’s shoulder as Chan wrapped his arm around him, rubbing soothing circles at Minho’s waist. Minho played with Chan’s rubbing hand before breathing in, “Chris… He’s back and... and h— he knows…. about us.”

Chan tensed at that, his hands stop moving and he turns to see only the top of Minho’s head. The younger’s clutch on his hands is tight. It was a sense of dread that blanketed them. Chan swallows the blob of _something_ stuck in his throat, with little voice he asked, “How?”

Minho was silent but his hands were busily playing with Chan’s fingers, “I— I want to say I know but— but I—” Minho’s voice faltered, “blanked out as soon as the words fell from my dad’s mouth. Then— then I just heard him say something about marrying some— some random girl before I stood up and bolted out.”

“Oh Minho,” Chan grabbed Minho by his shoulders to turn him to look at him. Minho was shaking under Chan’s touch, he was looking down still, not letting Chan to see his face, “Minho…”

He tries to say softer, using his left hand to place his hair behind his ear. It kept falling since Minho still has his head hung low.

“Hyung, I’m… I’m scared.” Those were the words Chan never thought he’ll hear coming from Minho. Never. He would be confident and brave at anything he’ll do or wanted to do. He would face what’s the unknown for him, like his relationship with Chan, him breaking free from his rich dude’s son image, or him letting someone lead him through. Things he never had in his life.

Chan pulled Minho, burying his nose to the soft brown locks that smelled like cocoa butter. Minho’s clutch on his back is shaking, even his whole body is going though that tremor. Chan pulled Minho closer as he rubbed Minho’s back, attempting to soothe the now sobbing younger.

“Hyung, I— I’m— I’m really scared. I— I don’t know what he’ll do.”

Minho never really knew much about his father. As a kid he knew his dad was a straightforward man that is a workaholic. He focused more to his work, sometimes his wife but never his children. The only moment where Minho actually saw his father as his was before his uncle’s death, those were the times when they were an actual loving and accepting family, Minho said. But after years, especially when his older sister ran away, they grew apart.

Minho didn’t know the reason why his sister ran. He thought she’s just following their mom but that is what a 9 year old would believe. Minho never considered the fact that the night she disappeared she introduced a girl, assuming it is now her wife according to his mom’s letters, to their dad and he didn’t hear their full conversation but their father was furious. Minho never heard his father scold her like that. And Minho never wanted to hear it again nor it be directed at him.

Minho is now crying in Chan’s arms, the wetness of his shirt is more apparent than before. The younger’s body is shaking uncontrollably, his breathing panicked. Chan has to do something or Minho might hyperventilate.

“Minho, Minnie, hey, baby, baby look at me,” He pulls back to make Minho look at him. Big tears continuously traveled down his cheeks, Chan wiped those away with his thumb as he cooes the crying other, “Hey, hey, stop crying. Did your father specifically say my name?”

Minho shakes his head.

“Then he knows that you are with a man but doesn’t know who?”

Minho hesitantly nods.

“Then were fine, he wouldn—”

“He will, Chris. You— you know how. The town is close knitted, he knows every person here, he’ll know it’s you or— or Felix or someone who is openly gay, Chan. I don’t— I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t— I don’t want to get hurt, hyunggie.” Minho cried again, hiding his face in his palms.

It’s really strange to see him like this. To see him break under the thought of his father never wanting him as his son, never accepting him as someone bisexual, or would abuse him. Chan hates this. He should’ve said no. He should’ve denied when Minho asked him. He should’ve thought of the consequence of his agreement. He shouldn’t have been selfish. Looking at Minho whose body is wracked with sobs, who seemed small, weak, and _delicate_ in this state, Chan can feel guilt weighing him down. Did he deserve the happiness he had— no, they had within a month? He would treasure it really. Maybe while it’s early, he should end this, just for Minho’s sake.

“Minnie,” he held Minho’s wrist as soft as he can, making the tearful teen to look at him. He held the younger’s cheek with the other. He gave a small smile to Minho, “We… we should end—”

“No.” Minho glared at him, “No, hyung. Why? I’m happy! We’re happy! If— if we end this then— then I’ll go back to that hell hole of a house and live my fucking life with a shithole of a school!”

“Wh—wha—”

“You hyung,” Minho clutched Chan’s collar and pulled him close. Chan held his breath as he sees the desperation in Minho’s eyes, “you— you’re the only good— no, great thing I have. You’re the only person who— who I want to stay with. Channie-hyung, you make me feel things.”

The brunette took a breath in shakily, trying to relax himself, “I— I was diagnosed with apathy after my uncle’s death. His d— death was my fault and I— as you know about apathetic people, I— we _don’t care_ about expression of emotions, sometimes emotions in general. I loathed that. I loathed _me_.”

Minho looks elsewhere as he continued, “But you, you hyunggie, you made me f— feel... normal— and thank you for that really, but that’s not the point. I wasn’t treated like a human being. I’m treated like a doll on display or— or the most beautiful diamond, like I’m _fragile_. Even if people didn’t know about my sickness, it would be because I’m the son of the rich dude.”

The younger’s hold loosened and dropped on Chan’s chest. He looks down and bit his lower lip, a blush spreading on his cheeks, “B— but when I chose you, thinking maybe trying to have someone different, _unaccepted_ will make me feel normal. An— and I did. I’m sorry for using you but I— I care for you hyung. I don’t want to lose you for this please. You make me feel strange things. There— there’s this fluttering feeling just seeing you laugh, smile or catch me staring at you. Then that warm, comforting feeling whenever I stay here for either a meal or the night, li— like you are welcoming me home. Or that twisting knot on my heart when you don’t have your attention _just_ to me, or— the moment when I saw you play on the field for the first time, and your expression, _oh my god_ , I never felt so embarrassed thinking you looked so hot, well it’s not that you’re not bu—”

Sometimes Minho blabbers, Chan loves him but he ruins the mood sometimes, he’s a huge dork. He’s hot but a huge awkward dork. He’s Chan’s huge awkward dork that he loves. Sometimes he clamps his mouth to silence him, sometimes Chan would distract him, sometimes he’ll just let him but most of the time he’ll kiss him. Like most of the time, now he did.

Chan held Minho’s head as he dives in to silence him. Their lips touch and teeth clashed and Minho yelped, it’s painful but Chan doesn’t mind. He needs this. He needs Minho to feel that _he’ll always be there_. He pressed harder, opening his mouth to lick the other’s lips. He can feel Minho wrap his arms around his neck before kissing back with equal force before letting and battling Chan in the kiss. Chan let’s go of the brunette’s face. He slipped his left hand below Minho’s arm to wrap around Minho’s nape and his right arm to Minho’s waist, pulling the younger closer to him as he kneeled, slowly laying the younger down on the sofa.

This nth lasting kiss of theirs was hard and needy, more intimate than their previous experiences. Hands roaming, teeth clashing, bites and bruises, all of these given to the other. Labored breathing, breathy sighs, possibly red scratches on his clothed back with how hard Minho dragged his nails through his thin shirt, all came from the younger.

Chan relished how ravished Minho looked under him after. Parted red glistened lips in a smirk— his pretty pink tongue darting out to soothe it, face flushed from his nose and cheeks to the tip of his ears, his intense stare through his long lashes, his short brown hair fanned out beneath him, those bites and hickeys that colored his neck and collar, and his ridden sweater, exposing his tummy where Chan’s hands laid rest on its sides.

“Hyung.” Minho starts, arms flinging to wrap on Chan’s neck, pulling him down so their foreheads touch, eyes staring at the other. They stayed like that for minutes. Chan draped over his boyfriend like a blanket. He can feel Minho's fingers twirling a tuft of hair behind him, “Let’s run away.”

Chan in his hazed stated might say yes but sadly, what they’d done didn’t make him feel so that much, “No, Minnie, we can’t—”

“Chris, I told you. Dad will find a way. He— he could hurt you, hurt us!” Minho placed his palm on Chan’s face, asking him to looks at him, “Please hyung. I don’t want to leave _you_ too. Please come with me.”

Chan opened his mouth, ready to retort that they’re barely even adults, that the town will search for them, that running away is never a good solution, any reasonable retort that will make him stay but he pauses. Minho plans to leave with or without him. Everything before their kiss was an attempt to not say goodbye to him. It was an attempt to make Chan see the dirt of their town in Minho’s eyes.

Chan looks sternly at Minho, the younger looks back as a challenge. Chan knows Minho is being childish, but he can’t be the judge for that. He was treated oppositely from Minho. They stayed like that for minutes, bickering through their stares. Tense bodies and intense stares, Minho trying to coax Chan with the slow rubs on his nape. Chan sighs, crowning himself as the loser. He just can’t let Minho go as if nothing was between them. He can’t let the younger out in the world with no knowledge of what’s beyond. It’s not all sugar and spice, he’s sure Minho gets that, but this isn’t like the movies or books when runaways do get what they wanted, freedom. This isn’t some cliche story like some hollywood project that’ll show threats that the protagonists will overcome. This is real life where the risk of potentially dying is great.

Even if what they’ll do will make them continue on a run, away from authorities that’ll search for them, leaving everything they knew behind. Leaving the people that cared for Chan, leaving his only home, his only connection with his mom, the regrets would take him but the regret on letting Minho go would be harder to bear.

Chan won’t sleep at several nights with only the cold beside him, thinking about how he is, where he is, is he fine or something. Chan knows those thoughts would haunt him. The guilt of letting him become the one that got away.

How did Chan get to start his first step to adulthood like this.

“Just— just never leave my side, yeah?”

Minho nods. He pulls Chan down onto a hug. The latter buried his nose at the crook of Minho’s neck, basking the mixed scent of his laundry detergent, cologne, body wash and sweat. He feels Minho place a kiss on top of his head before saying, “Never. We’ll always be together.”

After that, they ate and packed, Chan letting Minho pick among his clothes to use, fixing his only home for the last time, leaving his painful memories of his mother behind, placing their phones and a note with the house key, thanking and bidding goodbye to the Yangs at the coffee table. They walked out the door, hand in hand, unlocking the chains that tie them down, leaving the poor excuse of a town as they make their way south towards somewhere.

* * *

 

“Hyung, you look so hot right now.” Minho grins lopsidedly, his eyes smiling with him. Chan snorts at his boyfriend’s claim. He pulls his dirtied shirt collar to wipe the sweat off of his face, groaning as he feels his wet hair in between his fingers, slicking it back off of his forehead.

“Oh shut it and help me. Give me the wrench again.” He held out his hand, waiting for Minho to give the asked tool. Why did the machinery had to break down when the sun is about to set and left them on the road with no town in sight. There are a few cars passing by but they didn’t seem to care about them. The world is full of assholes really. Minho sighs beside him, grumbling incoherent phrases.

“Hyung, stop it.” he whined, “Leave the car and let’s just hitchhike. It’s better to cover our tracks anyway.”

“Babe, I swear I only need the wrench and we’ll be do—”

“Hyung you’ve been fixing this nearly for two hours!” Minho snapped, “It’s about to be six in the night! And you’re full of sweat and the oil on your skin is drying, that’s unhealthy!”

Chan frustratedly sighs, pushing himself out of his car’s hood before turning to look at an annoyed Minho. He combs his hair back once again before clicking his tongue in his mouth in irk, “Minho if you’ve been helping me then we could’ve finished this much earlier and get to a motel or something but you just stood there and ogled and flirted with me for hours!”

Minho looks back at him scandalized, hurt and anger coursing through his eyes, “How could you! Well sorry I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. Do you think I wanted to just stand here and just do that? No hyung I wanted to help! But this is machinery! One wrong move and I could destroy it completely! I was trying my best to help you with this useless trash—”

“Trash? How can you call Baby trash?” Chan glares at the other, the heat from their surrounding is more evident than before, “I think your petty self should be thankful for this useless trash. At least this machine was helpful for _your_ escapade away from your insecurities.”

Minho was taken aback with how Chan nearly growled at him. The younger hugged their bag of clothes and Chan’s jacket laid on top of it closer and looked down at the ground. Chan felt cold washing over his body after realizing his bursting of his anger towards his young lover.

“I, babe—”

“Could you please— please just hitchhike a ride. And— and here change your clothes, just call me, i’ll just... sit there.” Minho settled the bag down on the dirt before quickly turning around to go away from Chan with the older’s jacket, he walked a couple of steps before slumping on a tree stump, back facing Chan.

Chan sighs. He should clean up first before attempting to make amends to Minho. He held the hem of his shirt before lifting his arms above his head to remove his stained tee. He uses the remaining clean area of his shirt to wipe of excess grime and sweat of of his body and drapes the filthy top on his open car hood before bending down to pick their bag, grabbing the first clothing he picks.

“Well, hello there handsome.” Chan was quick to turn around and see a brunette girl in a biker clothing, biting the temple tips of her sunglasses with her teeth, sharp eyes shamelessly ogling Chan’s half naked body like a vixen. He placed the bag in front, feeling conscious of his shown skin, “You guys need a ride?”

The girl inclined her head to Minho’s direction, whose back is still turned on him. He noticed how his shoulders shake the slightest but Chan looks back at the girl to see the glasses she’s been biting now settles atop her head. She places her hand on her waist and gives a red stained smile towards Chan. She looks behind him and whistles, “You guys busted a machine there.”

Chan awkwardly laughs, “Ah, yeah.”

The girl approached the open hood to look at the machinery closely, “So what are you guys doing out here in the outskirts of town? You and pretty boy there together?”

“Ah, yes. We’re actually going outing,” he easily lies, she’s a total stranger anyway, “We want to get out of our town for a few days.”

“Oh so you guys are on a date? You guys are not straight?”, Chan opens his mouth, ready to confidently say yes when the words from her mouth fell, “What so you’re faggots faught or something?”

Rude. People can call Chan anything they want but not his Minho. Chan would like to commit murder then and there but they need a ride somewhere. He quickly looks at a hunched Minho and Baby that is being examined by the girl, ‘ _He’s right. We are running away, if the authorities are searching for us right now, Baby would be a hindrance._ ’ He places his left hand on his car’s grille and pats it, ‘ _Baby, daddy’s sorry but I have to leave you._ ’

He looks back at the girl and gives a charming smile, “No, he’s my bestfriend. He’s a son of a rich dude and he keeps complaining that he feels choked up so I decided to kidnap him out, with his parents’ consent, for my 18th birthday.”

He sends a wink, “He’s being a big baby sometimes.”

“Oh really,” a confident smirk stretched at her lips. She took a step forward to Chan, her hands resting on his hand on Baby, “would be a shame if you two turned out to be gays, we’re already dealing with a huge mess of a gay. Anyway, what should we do with your car? We can’t tow it.”

Chan pulls his hand out under her touch, pocketing his thumbs as he leaned back, “It’s fine to just leave it here, i’ll come back tomorrow with the authorities maybe, but my friend really needs a rest. Could you drop us off to a motel or something?”

“That’s also where we plan to go right now anyway. So yeah sure…” She looks at him with expectant eyes, slightly leaning forward. Chan stared quizzically at her.

“Your name you idiot.” a voice says beside them. Chan whips his head, so fast that it might come off, to see Minho standing there with arms crossed, sparing a glance at Chan before returning to the girl, “That dumbass is Bang Chan, I’m Lee Know.”

The female brunette raised an amused eyebrow, leaning back onto Baby with arms crossed, “Lee Know? That’s a unique name.”

Minho shrugs, “It’s a code name basically. For strangers.”

“I’m Jung Luna. That doesn’t make me a stranger now right?” a smirk is placed on Luna’s pretty face.

“Touche. Anyway, could you like leave us alone, me and him has to talk about something.” Minho sends a smile her way before quickly turning to Chan with a serious face.

“Okay then, pretty boy. Our camper is just there, just walk to us once you guys are done. It’s unmissable, don’t worry. Also, happy birthday, Channie” Luna smiles at Chan, Chan sends a small smile back. She pushed her self off of baby and he watched her retreat whilst she hummed a tune. When he’s sure she’s out of earshot, he turns his attention back to Minho. He looked more tired than before, eyes again brimmed red.

“Minnie—” He placed the bag down to reach out with both of his hands to clasp the younger’s sides.

“Are you seriously doing that?”

He stops quarter through, “Wh— wha—”

“I’m not forgiving you just because you’re trying to appease me with your hot body. I am desperate but not that desperate, idiot.”

Chan looks down to see his exposed torso, he knows embarrassment is coloring his cheeks. He looks back at an expecting Minho, “Uh— wait a minute.”

Quickly snatching the backpack on the dirt floor, Chan grabbed the first piece of clothing he could get his hands on, luckily it was a shirt, sadly it clung to him like second skin on his shoulder and chest. It might be one of the old clothes he packed for the younger. He groans but it’ll suffice.

“Minnie, babe, I—” Minho raised his hand, signaling Chan to stop, and he did. Minho sucked in a breath, Chan noticed it was shaky.

“Hyung. I— could you take me to my mom, I— I know where she lives, she sent me this,” the brunette rummaged through his old leather jacket Chan gave him, pulling out an artistically adorned open letter, “She said I should visit her soon, she’s with my sister and my sister’s  wife just at Busan. I know it’s a long trip but you— um, could just drop me of on a train station. Then I—”

“Minho, I said I’ll stay with you.” Chan softly held Minho’s shoulder with his left hand and his collar covered neck with his right, leveling his eyes with the smaller male, “Where would I go if I don’t? I’m not dumb enough to go back to town and act as if you weren’t the one who got away.”

The younger looks at him with a worried stare and furrowed brows, “I’m being a burden—”

“No, babe, you’re not,” Chan sighs as he pulls Minho in for a hug, “I’m sorry I got mad, I was frustrated and it’s just that— Baby means a lot to me, you know that. And things important—”

“—are hard to let go off.” Minho pulls back to look at him, “Hyung, it’s okay. It’s my fault for snapping at you when you were the one doing everything.”

Chan tugged his lips onto a genuine smile, leaning down to place a peck on the younger’s lips, “So, sorry?”

Minho nods, “Sorry.”

Chan tucks the younger back onto the hug, adoring how the younger hugs him back, but he pulls back quickly, “Anyway, we should go. Luna’s probably waiting.”

Minho mouth visibly twitched, “So flirting with a girl literally behind your boyfriend’s back, eh hyung? And telling her it’s your birthday today. Who’s the too trusting one now.”

The older just rolled his eyes and ruffled the brown locks, “Stop getting jealous whenever I mention another gay guy or girl’s name. Plus, I kinda did lie to her that we’re bestfriends on a trip not gay runaways. I thought she hated homosexuals for her use of ‘faggot’—”

“You’re just getting old and sensitive hyung—”

“Shut up. It’s fine to me but not to you, I will beat anyone’s ass if they dare called you names—”

“Flattered.” Minho sarcastically states, Chan just ignored him.

“—so, we can’t act like we’re in anyway together. ‘kay?”

The younger crossed his arms again, grumbling complaints before saying ‘fine’, handing Chan’s jacket he held back to him.

Both of them checked Baby for the last time, Chan taking important stuff like that one picture he kept hidden in the compartment and the money at the beverage holder, Minho looked if they had other stuff that they could use that is lying around at the back trunk. Chan locked everything after, alike his home, he said goodbye.

Walking towards the direction Luna pointed, Chan can say that their camper is really unmissable. It is a bright lilac with a splattered palette of pastel and black colors, flowers, a huge peace sign, skull and a huge ‘Drop dead~!!’ cutesy font on the rear. Imagine a pastel goth as a Camper van. That is the simplicity of what Chan sees. They approached the unique camper to see someone leaving out the driver seat.

“Took you guys long.” Luna was smoking a stick of cigarette that is already half, “The gang’s dying to meet y’all.”

She slams the side loudly, causing Minho to jump slightly at the sound. Chan held a snicker but the younger still hitted him roughly at the back.

“Oi, the boys I’m talkin’ ‘bout is here!”

Shuffling from the inside came and the door opens to reveal a dark haired girl with a pretty small but straight face. She reminds Chan of a doll with her rounded eyes and long lashes. She wore a simple hoodie and ripped jeans. She goes out after bowing slightly at Chan, only to unveil probably the hottest guy Chan would know if he didn’t met Minho. The dude was blond, less athletic looking than Chan but definitely taller. His face resembled the Korean-American member of that kpop group, ‘ _What was it that Minho dances to? Ah, Seventeen._ ’ but more angular and sickly. The blonde guy’s eyes were sunken, skin pale, his lips were pierced but his smile is the opposite of threatening. Something shone on his neck, it was a ring held on a chain necklace.

“Chan, Lee Know, these are my friends, Ji Min-Seo,” dolly bows again, “She’s mute by the way, so she talks with KSL, she can understand ASL but not much, and the mess of gay I was talking about in this guy, Park Maier, he’s a half-German kid.”

Maier groans at what Luna stated, suddenly clutching his ring pendant, “Noona, you can’t always tell people that I’m gay and a halfie. Most guys would treat me like I’m not even human.”

“Don’t worry, we feel you.” Minho speaks, Chan looks at him with slight panic but the younger glares back in assurance, “I’m Lee Know and I’m Bi so hello friend, and this dude is half-Australian.”

Chan looks back at the group with an awkward smile. Luna was amused behind her fist surely, Min-Seo held a small smile and Maier was looking at Minho with intrigue. Chan glares at the staring other and place his arms around Minho causally. The blonde looked at the intruding arm and shifts to Chan with a confused look. Chan feels pain shot up his draped arm and a silent pained gasp came from him. He looked at his lover with a betrayed look only to see him gesturing at the three bystanders with his eyes.

“Sorry to break it to you possessive besties but we should go now.” Luna intervenes. Both males looked at the trio and nodded. The sun had completely set and the only light came from the van, it’s better to be on a move now.

Min-Seo and Maier mounted back on where they previously came from, Minho followed suit. Chan was about to when he noticed the seats are completely taken, the small bed at the back has many things scattered and the only available is shotgun in front. He looks at Minho to see him pout. Chan just continued to sit beside Luna at shotgun, the rear view mirror making him see the other guy staring at Minho as he tried communicating KSL to Min-Seo.

“So, you guys have your own money right? Cause I ain’t paying for your fees.”

* * *

 

 

The motel is ugly. Really ugly. Not that Minho’s dissing it but it really is. Black stained carpet floors, flaking old plaid wallpaper, red floral bed warmers, an old oak table with two chairs, and a weird orange lamp. It gives off a sense of warmth, but it really doesn’t suit Minho’s taste. Well, he only has to experience this until they get to his mom’s. Lying on the floral bed warmer is not bad though. It’s so warm and soft, but it smells like a bottle of fabric conditioner was dumped onto it. He turns to lie face down on the sheets, stretching his tired limbs.

They’ve been on the road for four or more hours before the car broke down, and two or so for Chan to attempt to fix the engine. All those sitting and standing made his legs hurt a bit. Speaking of Chan, the sound of shower running and loud singing is overcame Minho’s hearing.

Chan has a beautiful voice, like really. It’s not too powerful, more soulful, soft, and smooth, just something like a lullaby. The night they danced, when Minho showed Chan his passion, after goofing and seeing Chan take his breath away with his movements, they fell onto the extended sofa bed, the vinyl record still turning without the melody pouring out for them to hear, both of them sharing things for the other to keep. Chan revealed he wrote poems, for a song he wanted to created (He dreamed to become a songwriter in Seoul). Minho teased him that he needs to be able to sing, Chan gave him a smug smirk before kissing Minho’s nose and pushing of the mattress, walking off to get his guitar. When he returns, he sits near him and started a familiar tune to Minho. He sang Troye Sivan’s ‘The Good Side’ and Minho can’t forget how tears ran down his cheeks after Chan finished.

Thinking about it now, he still can’t laugh off the idea of him looking so broken by the lyrical song and Chan’s voice. Chan, he loves Minho, but sometimes Minho doesn't realize that Chan is also human. He has emotions, reasons, and morals to believe. Minho forgets that Chan is not like him. That he would get from really angry to ashamed guilty, or confident and seductive to awkward and just lovable. Or that he lived with no biological parent for years, only a family friend as his own family. But Minho's sure he's lonely. Chan did live a fine life, minus the slur and his good nature towards the idiotic people in their school.

He pushed himself off the bed to turn and look at the clock at the small table between their beds. _7:05 p.m_ blinks at him. Sleep is too early plus they haven’t eaten out yet. He passed by a snack and drink vending machine on their way to their room earlier. Maybe he could buy some. Maybe some snacks Chan favors too, since it is his birthday and Minho is still guilty for riling him up. He jumped off the bed, landing on the carpet floor on his knees for slipping in the process, before running onto the bathroom door and opening it. Steam poured out and a high shriek came from the occupant.

“Minho what the fuck?!”

He opens his mouth, about to ask Chan for money but stopped when the other tried to cover his body with the shower curtain. He rolled his eyes at his boyfriend who might go blind for the amount of soap continuously running down his face, “Hyung don’t worry. With your bod I’m already sure about what’s down there. Anyway, where’s the money? I’ll buy some granola bars and drinks.”

Chan successfully wiped of the soap from one side to peek at Minho with a glare, “It’s at the bag, on my bed.”

“‘Kay, love you, thanks, I’m taking the keys by the way.” Minho quickly shut the door, not waiting to hear Chan’s reply. Running on the carpet floor, quickly changing his hot turtle neck to one of Chan’s shirt, not the ones Chan packed for Minho but for himself, for a more breathable feeling before bursting out the door, stealing Chan’s hood jacket, with the money and key at hand, not forgetting to close the door behind him.

He trudged through the hallway with hands on Chan’s hoodie pocket, keeping an eye out for the vending machines. When he finds those, a familiar figure was crouching down to get the drink they pressed.

“Maier.” Minho says as he got closer. The said male looked at Minho before standing tall and sending a smile. Okay, Minho feels really small even if he’s just a head smaller than Maier. Minho doesn’t really feel like socializing with anyone so he just sends a simply smile.

He stands in front of the snack machine, searching for the snacks he wanted to get, the guy beside him haven’t moved and Minho _totally_ don’t feel uncomfortable, at all.

“What are you doing by the way?” the hissing sound of the carbonated drink reached Minho’s ears, “Well, for buying snacks and drinks.”

“Well, I’m hungry.” he can hear the foreigner snicker. He placed the money and pressed the buttons in the machine before turning to look at Maier, “But with the purpose of saying sorry to my bo— bestfriend.”

“Oh,” the other exclaimed with intrigue, clutching the can with both hands, “Why? What happened? We— well if you didn’t want telling me anyway.”

The other looked away and clutched his pendant, a possible habit when nervous. They say a formerly depressed person can see a depressed fellow, or an avid fan can spot a fellow fan. Minho can see that Maier is someone who’d possibly gone through something like his. The amount of piercings, tattoos peeking from his shirt collar and redness near his hair line suggests he wanted to do something that screamed him, to scream _different_. Minho doesn’t really know how old the trio were, they knew Chan is 18 and Minho could be younger or the same age for them. But if he is older, and he’s at the stage Minho didn’t swerved to, either his mentality is broken or intact.

“Uh, you’ve been staring quite intensely at me. Uh, won’t your boyfriend get jealous?” Minho blinks at what the older said before glaring, asking, “What?” in a dangerous tone.

“Uh, the marks, hickeys at your neck…?” Maier gestured at the column of his neck. Minho might’ve visibly paled. He forgot Chan’s marks on him, “Bestfriends don’t really do that… Unless no strings attached… right?”

Minho looks at the half-German in contemplation, he could lie since he doesn’t trust the guy that much, “Well, t— they are from my boyfriend. He’s the reason I asked Chan to take me away.”

Maier looked at him is a confused stare, ‘ _Shit, what was the story Chan made up?_ ’. Minho walks to the drink machine, excusing himself from bumping Maier and chose one Carbonated soda and juice. Maier said, “Luna told us you guys were having an outing since it’s his birthday.”

Minho covers his marks awkwardly, “Well we are, but it was just planned to be on Seoul, but something happened between me and my boyfriend so I asked Chan to bring me to my Mom’s.”

“Oh, your parents are divorced?” He’s asking too many personal questions.

“Uh, kind of… My lover knows where my dad lives, even Chan’s so I wanted to stay away to my mom’s in Busan.” That should end their conversation. He crouches down to pick up the drinks when the some of the food in his hands fell. Minho tried grabbing them Maier too, which caused Maier to hit Minho’s face when he jolts back when their hands touched. Minho cursed and let the remaining snacks fall as he held the hitted eye. Someone grabbed his shoulders and his hand covering the part of his face

“Shit, I’m so sorry—”

“No, no, no, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

Both of them continuously, saying the same words for minutes until Minho had to remove the hand to prove his point.

“See, it’s okay, it’s not bruising. It was just sudden.”

Maier sighs in relief as he leans of the drink machine, “I’m really glad.”

“I don’t hold grudges you know.” Minho sends a short, small smile to the other.

Maier rolled his eyes and groaned, “It would have been a waste.”

He tilts his head in confusion for what the other had said, “What will?”

“Your pretty face.”

If Minho was a normal teen, he would blush then and there, luckily, it only happens around Chan. He lets his lips get tugged onto a genuine smile, “Sorry,  flirting doesn't really work on me.”

The other plays along, dramatically gasping, “Shame. A 21 year old gay dude can’t even get a single date.”

“Hyung, you look too imposing.” Minho excuses himself to pick up the fallen food, getting the drink out of the machine in the process. The older helped him too.

The older snickers at him, pulling out a plastic bag from his back pocket, placing the granola bars he picked up in it, “Here, got this from the convenience store we got to earlier. Anyway, let me treat you.”

Minho takes the bag with a thanks and places the snacks and drink inside, he looked at the other’s offer with caution, “What treat?”

“Just a drink,” he points at the vending machine beside them, “Something you liked here. So?”

Minho can work with that, he smiles as he nods his head, “Sure, could we drink it while we go to our room? Chan’s probably done showering and is waiting.”

“Uh, yeah sure. So what do you want?” The other placed the bill on the machine. Hands hovering over the buttons, eyes expectant.

“I would want that lemon cider.” Minho points at the can at the top left.

“Don’t want alcohol?” Maier puffs in disbelief.

He just shrugged his shoulders, “Nah, Chan might smell it.”

“But you want to try don’t you.” The other quickly says.

“I—” Well he does, Maier would buy him but he doesn’t want Chan angry at him, he wants to drink with Chan too, “— just a sip. Can I just try yours if it would be of our taste?”

Maier smiles, like he’d succeeded on something, he picks the can he had placed down before helping with the snacks earlier and handed it to Minho. Minho looks at the can opening and smells it. Nothing funny, it just smells bitter. He carefully places it on his lips and took a tiny sip, the strong bitterness of the beer stayed on his tongue before going down his throat quickly. He coughs before handing the can back to Maier.

“Ew it’s—” suddenly Minho felt as if the room spun in quick motion. He stretched out his hand, clutching onto whatever he can use as a support, only to feel the thing break off his hold. Hands were hot on his back, pulling him to lean on a hard surface.

“Hey, hey,” came a muffled voice. Minho tried to look at the source of noise to see someone looking down on him, “I’ll get you to a room okay? You’ll be fine.”

Minho shook his head. He feels sluggish, trying to push off as strong as he can from the other’s hold, “N—no… n… o… Chan… Cha… n...”

He tried fending off the hands trying to touch his hair, block out that muffled shushing in his head, all these strange feeling of heat and fuzziness. His thought getting jumbled, he tries to focus. Just to try and focus and call out to… to… who…?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm seriously anxious with this piece. Like on every next scene i'll do I'll be lost. But the make-out scene on the couch-bed nearly killed me, I just kept it short and non-graphic. I was pondering if I should place it or not. Like I said, this was unedited since i'm sick rn (didn't tell Ves that lmao), I can't be on the laptop for too long.
> 
> Okay so why is this important. You see, I was debating how I should end this, since anxiety attacks every writer, I decided to let YOU readers to decide on this. I have 3 choices i'll give. I'll start a poll in twitter where you can vote but for readers who can't, you can just comment which scenario do you prefer. I make no promises tho.
> 
> A&B.) Something bad happens to Minho, Chan doesn't kill the guy but he would knock the dude out. He'll call the police but they'll still go away. He would be driven by guilt, always trying to separate himself from Minho for being 'not the good boyfriend' but Minho needs him though their journey to Min's mom. It will be like a game of cat and mice but the cat needs the protection cause he's scared. Yeah idk what to compare them to. Or Hamlet's line of 'To be or not to be' but 'To stay or not to stay'. There are two endings for this, A.)a happy one and B.)sad one.
> 
> C.) Nothing bad will happen to Minho cause Chan got there in time, but Chan will kill the dude accidentally. Minho would be too dazed to comprehend what happened. They would proceed to go to Min's mom but when they do reach there, uh, basically how the show mixed with the written source ended, but they would open up and admit about what they'd done but the mom doesn't trust Chan so she calls on them but she thinks she's saving her son's life.
> 
> In summary, A.) Both suffers but a happy ending aka the end (but not process) most of us would want, B.) Both suffers and a sad end aka the probably realistic ending if Chan let's the guilt trip him, and C.) Chan would suffer and just suffer aka the mixed source ending/they're just fucked up, misunderstood kids (this COULD end openly).
> 
> It wouldn't be fair to not let them suffer. This isn't some fairy tale I planned on writing so I'm sorry. Don't worry I only have like, 3 more separate Skz stories that doesn't end like a fairy tale.
> 
> I suck at writing, I know, and I'm cruel.
> 
> Your choices are A, B and C. Choose wisely in three days... And please have mercy oh my god.
> 
> Fun story to drag off the gloom though, when I proof read a story, I read it out loud, not only to practice my speaking and to focus on what I've placed in it. But with this I'm so focused that I didn't even realize I was reading it with a British accent. When I did realize it I actually laughed off my bed.
> 
>  
> 
> [Poll/Twitter](https://twitter.com/aleqsmonsoleil/status/989904374645190656)
> 
>  
> 
> You can scream at me there, tell me things and such.

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sinnamwun)


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